


Wrong (To Prove I'm Right)

by euhemeria



Series: And, In Sign of Ancient Love, Their Plighted Hands They Join [73]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Character Study, Dubious Ethics, Dubious Morality, Gen, Heroes to Villains, and this is in no way character bashing just. enjoying her villainy, cause good villains make for good stories, let me just clarify upfront that i love her... as a villain
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-29 04:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19822966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/euhemeria/pseuds/euhemeria
Summary: When Moira warned them—and she did, warned all of them—they called her mad, called her inhumane, called her unethical, a disgrace to her profession, a danger to society.  There was no justification, they told her, for what she had done, it was evil.  Such a loaded word, and so utterly subjective.Or,A fic about how Moira came to be the woman she is, in which she is, in fact, evil.





	Wrong (To Prove I'm Right)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sealfarts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sealfarts/gifts).



> a little thing i wrote for mariel's moon and back zine <3 i also did one other piece that ill post maybe tmrw? abt ana. but first this one bc ive been DYING to post it for like... literally months. it was the first time i wrote moira (tho ive since posted one fic w her) & i have to admit... sometimes writing villains is fun

It is natural, when facing an accusation, to want to defend oneself, is normal, even expected, to deny the truth, even if it is plain to see, in order to escape consequences, escape censure, escape judgement. So, when people call Moira unethical, they expect her to argue, expect her to claim that she is, indeed, perfectly ethical in her own way, and perhaps they even expect her to believe it.

Moira labors under no such delusions.

This, people find still more unsavory, the idea that ethics do not _matter_ to her. Naturally, they are incorrect in their presumptions, limited by the scope of their imagination and their own biases. What they cannot imagine is this, the simple truth that Moira O’Deorain knows ethical codes, understands their historic importance, knows that, in another life, another time, another place, she would have followed them, and it would have been for the greater good—and still, she chooses not to adhere to them now.

A century ago, Moira would have followed such prescriptivist teachings, would have heeded the societal consensus for what is _right_ and what is _wrong._

Or she thinks she would have, anyway. Given that she was not alive, then, it is impossible to know for certain what she would have done, and it would be foolish for her to make absolute claims, but she hypothesizes (and, privately, _feels_ ) that such would have been the case. After all, she would not have had, then, the compelling reason to ignore ethical guidelines that she does today.

That is, at the core, the primary cause of others’ inability to understand Moira, her true motivations. They think that because she does not believe it is practical, any longer, to adhere to ethical guidelines, that she does not see value in them, does not understand why they might have been necessary, once. She _does._ It is simply that now, there are greater concerns than human suffering.

To say such is taboo, often ends in accusations of callousness—or worse—and inhumanity, but Moira is not _indifferent_ to suffering, nor does she enjoy it. The problem is simply that it is necessary, sometimes, in order to advance, to progress as a species.

In that, she and Akande are in agreement. Against an enemy known for its ability to adapt, to reprogram, to forge itself anew, humanity cannot remain stagnant. They only disagree on the subject of methods.

Conflict, Akande says, will make humanity stronger. Moira disagrees, she has seen enough of conflict herself, and knows that even the evidence from his own life does not support the conclusions Akande has drawn. What did conflict do for him, other than take from him his arm, his passion? What strength he gained from his gauntlet is not the result of conflict at all, but of technology, of the ability, with scientific advances, to expand the potential of humanity—their speed, their strength, their survivability.

Better, then, to push for advancement through science. Moira has seen war, knows well what comes of it, knows that it brings only suffering, pain, death.

Do her experiments not also cause suffering, when she ignores ethical codes set before her? Yes, they do. She regrets that they must—but not enough to stop.

After all, what is the pain of her own arm, in the face of the deaths of millions? What is the death of a patient or two, if her work might one day save humanity?

Living a life sheltered from pain by ethics and conventional morality is all well and good, up until one is killed by a mortar at twenty-five. Moira would rather a few people suffered by her hands than see humanity wiped out—and it will be, if people like her do not act.

It is maddening, to think about the inaction of others, to know that there are brilliant minds who are willingly blind to the truth of humanity’s situation. If one asks Dr. Ziegler—and even if one does _not_ ask—she will speak at length about the impact that surviving the Omnic Crisis had on her, what it was like to grow up an orphan in an uncertain future, to know that humanity itself might be ended, and she was powerless to stop it. Yet what does she do to prevent another Omnic Crisis now?

Nothing. She and so many of their colleagues sit idly by, held back by _ethics_ , paralyzed by questions over morality. Such inaction will lead to the downfall of humanity.

When Moira warned them—and she did, warned _all_ of them—they called her mad, called her inhumane, called her unethical, a disgrace to her profession, a danger to society. There was no justification, they told her, for what she had done, it was _evil_. 

Such a loaded word, evil, and so utterly subjective.

One day, in ten years, in twenty, in fifty, in one hundred—one day, they will say her name, and she will be a savior, instead. Nothing about her will have changed, none of her actions will have been undone, or forgotten, or somehow atoned for. Everything will be just as it is now, but it will be _her_ work that saves humanity, in the end, or the work of people like her, and all those who rebuked her will be recognized for the short-sighted fools they are.

They told her there was no need for her haste, no need to cut ethical corners in order to accomplish her research more quickly. _Everything will happen at its hour,_ they said, but that is not true.

It is only a matter of time before the next Omnic Crisis. Everyone knows that, everyone sees it; there are signs of unrest everywhere, if one knows what to look for. Sooner or later, humanity will once again need to fight for its survival, and what then?

Omnics are ever advancing, it is in their nature as artificial intelligences. Every day, they grow stronger, and when the Omniums go back online, every small advance made by every individual omnic can be combined, can be used to make newer, deadlier units than ever existed in the first Omnic Crisis.

It was a miracle, Moira’s grandmother said, that they survived the first Omnic Crisis, and she meant it. Every Sunday until the day she died, the woman went to Mass, and she swore it was her Hail Mary’s which protected them all through the war.

Moira does not believe in God, she believes in science, and it is in that, the potential for human advancement in experimentation, she puts her faith. When the second Omnic Crisis comes, religion will not save them.

Without more people like Moira, science will not save humanity either.

To progress slowly, ethically—it is not enough. Every day that experimentation is delayed by concerned ethical review boards is another day that humanity falls further behind omnics, and they are put at greater risk of being eradicated entirely. Why should she waste her time, when she knows her enemy will not? What good would it do, to spare the few pain, if they would only later die with the many?

If humanity is to avoid annihilation entirely, then they must act, and quickly.

Others can turn a blind eye, if they like, but Moira will not, cannot after the things she has seen. Her grandmother was right about one thing—it is a miracle that humanity made it out of the first Omnic Crisis. Anyone who was on the frontlines could attest to as much, and Moira was.

Although she would have avoided it, had she been given the choice, Moira found herself, like so many other able-bodied young people who came of age in that time, being conscripted, forced to delay her studies in favor of picking up a gun and joining the fray. She remembers what it was, then, to be powerless, helpless, hopeless, to know that the squad to which she was assigned was outmanned and outgunned, and that her survival was reliant not on how well they fought, but on whether or not they were fortunate enough to be ordered to retreat before she herself was killed.

Knowing what it felt like, for her fate to be decided entirely by others, whether she lived or died left entirely up to the mercy of generals who had never met her, never saw her face or learned her name, to whom she was no more than a number—a fraction of a number—how could she go back? How could she allow herself, allow humanity to once again be put in such a position? How could she ever stop pushing forwards?

_Progress takes time_ , they tell her, and that is not untrue; her research proceeds more slowly than she would like. However, that does not mean that she ought to hinder herself further, and needlessly. For artificial intelligence, progress never stops. Why should humanity demand any less?

Building bigger weapons accomplished nothing; all of their technological innovations were turned against them. What, then, would it accomplish now?

Nothing, and less than nothing.

There is, then, only one path to victory—to _survival_ —and that is to harness a power that no artificial intelligence ever could, to improve themselves in a way that cannot be taken from them, used against them. In order to survive, humanity must weaponize their own biology, and in so doing ensure that no enemy, omnic or otherwise, can turn their innovations against them.

A simple enough prospect, and easily enough understood, if only people were not so blinded by faith.

Faith in God stops them from achieving their full potential, because what they seek to do they are told is immoral, is wrong, is an abomination. Even good scientists find themselves drawn into this trap, beholden to long-outdated mores of their parents’ parents’ parents’ generation, and before, not daring to push science further because it seems wrong to them, because they might be accused of playing God. So what if they do? Where was God, when they needed him in the last Omnic Crisis? Nowhere. Why, then, should they restrict themselves to his image? Why not be remade, reborn, in their _own_?

Faith in organizations holds people back, too. Naïvely, they believe that because Overwatch saved them once, that the United Nations will reinstate Overwatch, will assemble another Strike Team to shut down the god programs and save them all. Foolish. The UN would sooner see them all burn than once again allow itself to be eclipsed by an organization it founded. Even if Overwatch _were_ recalled, they would not be ready, for those who are still drawn to the initiative are all living in the past, have been stagnant, are completely unprepared for the changing landscape of war, for what it will be to fight in another Omnic Crisis now. Life has passed them all by, and their ability to protect the globe with it. Not Moira—she _never_ stops evolving.

Faith in humanity tells them that, somehow, another Omnic Crisis will be overcome, just as the first was, will be survived, because humanity _always_ survives, somehow. Moira, of course, knows better; the same can be said of all things—they survive, until they do not. Past performance is not an indicator of future results. One day, the fact that they are humans will _not_ be enough, and who and what they are will pass into memory. Like all species which came before them, they will die out, or they will evolve; Moira would see it be the latter.

And what of Moira? Does she not have faith? Surely, to have faith in _something_ is to be human?

No. 

What she has is not faith, it is hope. Hope that evolving will allow humanity to gain the upper hand, next time they must fight to survive, hope that science can offer solutions, allowing them to make the necessary preparations in time, hope that she will be able to use her knowledge, her resources to do so, and that she will not live to see another Omnic Crisis, or the end to humanity as she knows it.

Faith? No. Certainty? Far from it. In the face of such, some might say that her actions are unjustifiable, for she is definitely causing suffering only to _possibly_ spare humanity far worse. They would call her a monster, for doing all that she can, because hope is not a good enough reason to end a life, even as they accept on faith that their own kills are necessary, killing low ranking enemy soldiers simple because of the uniform they wear.

What difference does it make, to leave one enemy alive? Where is the guarantee that by killing them, civilian lives have been saved? There is none. One casualty is no more likely to end a war than any one of Moira’s subjects’ demise is to lead her to a breakthrough in her own work. If anything, their kills have _less_ value.

But they kill on orders, on faith, and that, somehow, is more acceptable.

Senseless. What does war accomplish, truly? Akande thinks it will strengthen them, but Moira knows better, knows that it will only further sap nations of their resources, leaving the world vulnerable when next humanity faces a potential extinction event. Yet she passively allows Talon to continue their work, and this, more than anything, she thinks is her great evil. But what can she do? She needs Talon, to perform her work, and so she needs warfare, for that is what makes Talon profitable for the likes of Akande and Maximilien. In its own way, war is a profitable venture for Moira, too. As long as there is war, is strife, is discord, she has resources—financial, yes, provided by Vishkar and Ogundimu, but more importantly she has access to subjects.

Some of them are even willing.

The rest… well, it is a pity that they are too close-minded to understand what will be accomplished by their sacrifice, what a service they do to humanity, dying so that their whole species might live. Sometimes, she tells the religious ones, the ones who pray as she straps them down, that they are martyrs, and sometimes they even believe her.

A lie, but a victimless one. If it brings them comfort—she is not cruel. There is no need for them to suffer, any of them. What she wants to do is to _prevent_ suffering, if for the many, and not the few. Were it possible to advertise her experiments, without risking being stopped from pursuing her research entirely, and thereby find willing participants, she would do so. As it is, she does what she must, but she does not relish it, truly.

It would be infinitely preferable to her to have only subjects who consented to be a part of her work—and not just because it would be simpler—but she believes her research to be worth the sacrifice, in the end, believes that so much that she experimented on herself before she ever raised a needle to anyone else’s arm. Unfortunately, the results from her first trial have not been easily replicable, even by herself, but she knows what it is her subjects feel, when she injects them, has felt that same pain herself. It is not so terrible a price to pay, not for humanity to have a future.

Any of them would have suffered just as much, had she left them to die by the Reaper’s hands. Instead, they get to live, to evolve, to become something newer, _better._ If she offers any of them a choice on the battlefield, a gun pressed to their temple, she knows they will choose her, every time. They always, always do.

Is it informed consent, as her so-called peers are always nattering on about? No. But none of them consented to be born into this world, where they have no choice but to evolve or die.

Their choice, then is a microcosm of the greater decision that faces humanity, and when the gun presses to their head—they always choose to live, no matter the cost.

That is how Moira knows they will thank her, one day, the whole world will. Humanity is not on the brink again, yet, but when they are, they will do _anything_ to live, will wish they had prepared more for this moment, would forgive anything that was done in order to ensure their survival.

Everyone wants to live; it is human nature. If the rest of the world lacks the foresight to see what is coming—Moira would not see them all die for it. She will guide them into the future, will save them, all of them, from themselves. What she does is not because she hates humanity, because she relishes in suffering, but rather the opposite. She would protect them, would fight to guarantee they have a future, even as they ostracize her, think her mad and cruel because they cannot understand her vision, cannot accept what it is she knows.

If she does not force humanity to evolve, they will be outpaced, and they will die.

If conventional ethics, if morals, say that she is a villain for allowing a few people to die, to suffer by her hand, in order to ensure that humanity will continue to exist, in some form or another, then so be it.

And if that makes her evil?

Well, Moira does not care.

Better to be evil than to be dead.

**Author's Note:**

> to be 100% clear... obvs i dont support moiras position here. bc she is, of course, a villain. but interesting villains make for good stories
> 
> anyway, hope u all enjoyed my "take" on her. would love to hear ur thoughts! <3


End file.
